Now blesse me heaven, one of the Greyhounds turn'd into a woman, the other into a boy! The lad I never saw before, but her I know well; it is my gammer Dickison.
G. Dick. Sirah, you have serv'd me well to swindge me thus. You yong rogue, you have vs'd me like a dog.
Boy. When you had put your self into a dogs skin, I pray how c'ud I help it; but gammer are not you a Witch? if you bee, I beg upon my knees you will not hurt me.
Dickis. Stand up my boie, for thou shalt have no harme,
Be silent, speake of nothing thou hast seene.
And here's a shilling for thee.
Boy. Ile have none of your money, gammer, because you are a Witch; and now she is out of her foure leg'd shape, ile see if with my two legs I can out-run her.
Dickis. Nay sirra, though you be yong, and I old, you are not so nimble, nor I so lame, but I can overtake you.
Boy. But Gammer what do you meane to do with me
Now you have me?
Dickis. To hugge thee, stroke thee, and embrace thee thus,
And teach thee twentie thousand prety things,
So thou tell no tales; and boy this night
Thou must along with me to a brave feast.
Boy. Not I gammer indeed la, I dare not stay out late,
My father is a fell man, and if I bee out long, will both
chide and beat me.
Dickis. Not sirra, then perforce thou shalt along,
This bridle helps me still at need,
And shall provide us of a steed.
Now sirra, take your shape and be
Prepar'd to hurrie him and me.